


Just Short Of A Fairytale

by AlyssiaInWonderland



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bonding, Gen, Insomnia, M/M, Nightmares, Sokka and Zuko both have nightmares about their fathers, Tumblr Prompt, Western Air Temple, and maybe learn to help each other, for different reasons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 11:02:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24469924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlyssiaInWonderland/pseuds/AlyssiaInWonderland
Summary: Zuko wakes up after a nightmare, only to hear someone crying out, scared. He finds out that he's not the only one who has bad dreams about his father; albeit for different reasons.In which Sokka has been comforting Zuko when he has nightmares, and it's time for Zuko to return the favour.Based on the tumblr prompt: Ooh Zukka prompt: Sokka usually comforts Zuko during his nightmares but Zuko wakes up one night finally seeing Sokka has his own nightmares too.
Relationships: Sokka & Zuko (Avatar), pre-Sokka/Zuko
Comments: 20
Kudos: 585





	Just Short Of A Fairytale

Zuko started awake, his own hand flying to cover his mouth, catching the shout that would otherwise wake Sokka.

Zuko took a moment to ground himself, arms hugging his drawn-up knees, pressing his forehead to them and doing his best to remember how to breathe, how to calm his fast-beating heart.

Lightning crackled beneath his eyelids, under his skin, jittery as his own adrenaline. Father, Azula; between them, it was a wonder that his connection to his element remained at all. 

The others rarely woke as a result of his nightmares; or if they did, they didn’t care enough to come for him. He understood; it had been far more confusing to him that Sokka had bothered.

But, consistently, despite Katara’s continued distrust, despite the fact they were hiding in a temple deserted because of the actions of his father, Sokka always came for him.

It had forged  _ something _ between them. What, Zuko didn’t know. But he knew that Sokka, the boy who had hated him for the whole time they had known each other, didn’t hate him anymore. Maybe even cared for him, or so the more hopeful parts of Zuko thought. 

At the least, Sokka knew that he had nightmares about his father. Sokka knew - what Ozai had done to him, in broad strokes. His face had changed, when he realised how Zuko had gained his scar. It was strange; he had expected Toph, Aang and Katara to be whispering about it, the next day, but it all stayed the same. Sokka had kept his secrets.

Zuko was startled from his thoughts by the sound of someone crying out.

He ricocheted upright, instantly vigilant, skidding through the doorway and towards the sound, trying to summon his inner flame past the shock of the sound.

The cry came again, but this time from sideways - another room, not the open courtyard where the others usually slept.

Zuko frowned, plastered his back to the wall. An intruder? But the voice sounded fearful, not enraged. And they hadn’t started a fight. Zuko inched toward the doorway, coaxing a tiny flame into his palm, ready to fight.

He peered around the corner.

Nothing attacked.

He raised the flame, illuminating the dark room, and found Sokka, curled up on his roll mat.

Why was Sokka here? In the morning he was always grumbling about having to get up, in the courtyard with the others.

Zuko crept forwards, and startled, the flame in his hand flaring, when Sokka shouted again, in his sleep.

“Dad! No, don’t go!”

Zuko froze, half-formed thoughts flashing across his mind, heart rate ratcheting up until he realised - of course. Sokka was scared for his father, not scared  _ of _ him. He breathed out a shaky sigh of relief, and stepped closer, setting the flame to the lamp near Sokka’s mat before kneeling by him. He reached out, and hesitated, unsure what to do.

“No!” Sokka lunged upright, his eyes flying open as he reached out to the air in front of him, grasping at emptiness. He stared around wildly, as if he couldn’t see. Zuko recognised the symptoms.

“Hey, Sokka, it’s okay.” Zuko gently took his shoulders, and pressed, to ground him. “You’re at the Western Air Temple. The others are safe in the courtyard.”

“Zuko?” Sokka’s voice wavered, painfully young in that moment.

“You’re okay.” Zuko repeated. He wondered if this was why Sokka was so kind to him; seeing him like this hammered home the fact that this boy was just that. A boy; a strong, intelligent boy, with formidable fighting skills, but just a child still. He wondered if that was what his Uncle had seen, too, after the Agni Kai. “You’re okay, Sokka.”

“My Dad’s dead, isn’t he.” Sokka whispered, brushing his hair back with shaking hands. “It’s my fault. I keep - I see him going into the gates and I just - I can’t stop him. My plan, it was my plan that-”

“It’s not your fault, Sokka.” Zuko caught Sokka’s hands, which had begun to twist around themselves, scratching at his arms, as if to punish himself. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I - it’s not your fault, either. I’m sorry. Zuko, why did you - I didn’t mean to-” Sokka stumbled over his words, trying to pull away, and Zuko let him, worried he had overstepped.

“I’m sorry, I can go if you want. I just - you were upset, and - I know what it’s like. To have nightmares. I just wanted to help.” Zuko moved to stand, but Sokka lunged, tangling his arms around Zuko in an uncoordinated, but tight, hug.

“I’m sorry.” Sokka repeated. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, no. You don’t have to be sorry. It’s not your fault.” Zuko carefully prized Sokka’s arms from around his neck, settling them on his lap, thumbs rubbing across Sokka’s wrists in what he hoped was a soothing manner.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want anyone to know.” Sokka flushed, and looked away. “Especially not you.”

“Oh.” Zuko tried to push the hurt from his tone - this was about Sokka, not him.

“No! Not like that.” Sokka explained, hastily. “It just felt...insensitive, to whine at you about missing my father. Not when - well. You know.”

“You’re not whining.” Zuko said, earnestly, glad now he thought he understood the shame in Sokka’s posture. “If anything, it could be me being insensitive, reminding you of your father.”

“That’s not how nightmares work!” Sokka interjected, angrily defending him, and Zuko raised an eyebrow, not quite able to summon a smirk, but getting there. “Oh. I see what you did there. Very sneaky.”

“Yeah.” Zuko rolled his eyes, and shuffled so he was sat more comfortably. Sokka sighed, and looked at the doorway, then around the room, still more vigilant than relaxed.

“I didn’t want to worry the others. Especially Katara; after our Mom died, she stepped up, and I know that was hard for her. I think she’s ignoring what happened, at the invasion. She’s so focussed on Aang, and fixing things, it’s her way of coping, and I don’t want to force her to face this. If I can’t deal with it, that should be my problem, not hers.” 

Sokka tried to pull away, but Zuko followed him, keeping his grip loose and easy to break out of. Sokka let his hands stay, so Zuko took it as a welcome.

“I get not wanting to upset her. But - you don’t have to go through this alone.” Zuko offered, somewhat awkward though he knew his help would be.

“Thanks.” Sokka shuffled around, and leaned his head on Zuko’s shoulder. “I’m just so tired.”

“You’ve been moving once they’re asleep, and going back when it’s nearly morning.” Zuko said, realising why Sokka was in a different place. “And it’s when you’re doing that, that you hear me.”

“Yeah.” Sokka nodded, his boy gradually falling more deeply against Zuko, as he began to relax. “It’s okay.”

“You need rest, too.” Zuko pointed out.

“Mm. Sure, Sparky.” Sokka patted Zuko’s hand, clumsily. The adrenaline had worn off, clearly.

“Get some rest. I’ll stay.” Zuko shifted to lean against the wall, and prepared to sacrifice the rest of his night of broken sleep, in favour of watching over Sokka.

“You need rest, too.” Sokka parroted.

“Alright, no need to be rude about it.” Zuko leaned his own head to rest on top of Sokka’s. “How about you let me look after you now, and you look after me tomorrow. Deal?”

“Deal.” Sokka mumbled, his breathing slowly evening out into the pattern of the firmly asleep.

Zuko, against all odds, felt himself smile.

Now the subject was open, Sokka was going to ask him about what happened to prisoners in the Fire Nation. Maybe tomorrow, maybe next week. But it would happen. Zuko wasn’t looking forward to answering that question; perhaps it would be better if he could confirm Hakoda’s death, instead of leading Sokka on potentially false hope, and telling him about the terrors of a top security prison.

But for tonight, he had done one good thing. He had helped the person who helped him.

He’d sacrifice all the sleep he'd ever have, for that.

**Author's Note:**

> Heya! Hope you enjoyed this fic! It's more pre-relationship than established Zukka, but hopefully it still reads as Angsty but Shippy! 
> 
> As ever, comments and kudos feed my dark soul!


End file.
